No U turns
by Kaysin-12
Summary: The Bakerats set up their new hideout, Stoker rallies the bros for a rat hunt, Rimfire flies the coop and Carbine is left with all the paper work. Meanwhile, what's up with Harley? Not even she's sure!
1. Chapter 1

Rating: Rated for M for adults, mostly to keep the prudes from freaking on me. No sex, just some mild swearing and shall we say, "controversial topics", discussed in later chapters. Oh yeah, and violence. There's a lot of that.

Disclaimer and…uh, Claimer I guess!

Anything you recognize, example the bros or Charley, belongs to whichever lucky devil owns the BMFM. Anything, place or personage that you don't recognize, for instance Arrow the Rat, it's a safe bet that I own it/there/them. With that said I would like to quote another famous rodent: "Everybody neat and pretty? Okay then, on with the show!"

The two women sat in silence for many moments, nether one wanting to break the spell of calm they had fought so hard to achieve. It had taken hours to get the guys to leave the Last Chance and return to the scoreboard for some well deserved rest.

Vinnie had to be practically dragged off by his bros, Throttle and Modo were excited to have their old friend back, but they had nothing on their youngest team member's enthusiasm. Which only confirmed what Charley always suspected, the torch Vinnie carried for her newsiest guest had only dwindled, never completely gone out.

"So," the blue eyed mechanic smiled, pushing away her jealously in the hopes of not making a bad situation worse. "I'll start supper. How about soup and tea? Something light, until your stomach recovers from that slop the Plutarkians have been giving you." she stood and gently squeezed the Martian woman's boney shoulder as she past her on the way to the utensil cupboard.

Harley smiled faintly from her place at the kitchen table, her eyes were blue too, and somehow still managed to sparkle a little despite her hardships. Even when Charley had first lade eyes on her; scrawny, her once long mane hacked short, covered in dirt and blood from the mistreatment she had suffered all those years, a person would have to be blind not to see the glimmer of beauty that still lay beneath.

'I never stood a chance with him.' Charlene realized and then mentally kicked herself for her momentary self pity.

"Sounds great. Wish I could help but I'm still kind of unsteady. I think I'll go lay down, is that okay with you?" the look she shot the other woman was so uncertain, tired and almost pleading. Any resentment or envy within the lovely mechanic quickly melted away as her strong protective instincts kicked in.

"Of course." Charley helped her to stand and escorted the golden furred mouse to the living room couch, resisting the urge to scoop up her thin guest and just carry her. The way Harley wobbled on her feet made Charley want to cry, and she hated herself for every negative feeling she had ever felt towards this, the "other woman". She partially gave in and looped an arm around Harley's waist, actually managing to make it look like a gesture of friendship so as not to wound the Martian woman's pride. Harley had smiled at her weakly and returned the gesture, seemingly oblivious to any thoughts of pity.

"After supper I'll help you upstairs and I'll sleep down here. I don't think you want to clamber up the latter in your condition just to come back down again in half an hour." Charley said as she introduced Harley to her well worn leather upholstered couch. She snagged a croustade blanket (that the boys would never find out she had made herself, least she have to pummel them into painful oblivion to stop the Susie-homemaker jokes) from off the recliner and gently draped it over the mousette's legs.

"Take your bed?" Harley blinked and shook her head "Oh no, I couldn't. Charlene, you've already done so much for me."

"Don't worry about it." She shrugged "The guys do it all the time, whenever they're hurt too badly to make it back to the field." she gently pushed Harley down and flashed her a smirk that would do Vinnie proud. "I insist. Now catch some Z's biker babe, I got a meal to fix."

*** *** *** ***

Harley sighed, closed her eyes and savored the feel of the soft pillows beneath her. Back on Mars, whenever she became over tired, she'd have a hard time falling to sleep. The Martian woman had no delusions that this time would be any different but she'd be damned if she was going to attempt moving anytime soon.

The day had started out like so many before it, with a rude but effective awakening supplied by the rats who the Plutarkians hired as cheep guards. Harley snarled at the thought of Arrow, the brunhilda of a brown and white marked female who ran cellblock S-3-85.

Tall and muscle-bound, covered in scars, piercing and tacky tattoos, Harley had mistaken Arrow for a male when she fist laid eyes on her. But then the rat had turned around and there was no doubt as to her gender.

"Double Dee's are a waste on something that ugly." a reddish furred male Martian, who was standing next to her at the time, had said. Harley couldn't help an amused snort at the memory.

After receiving her daily kick from Arrow, Harley had been corralled with the others into the cafeteria for a quick round of what pasted for breakfast. Which was followed by an even quicker dunking in the ice cold showers, given no time to dry off before throwing on their clothes again and rushing out into the shipping bay. She had forced herself to stare forward. If an individual didn't get dressed fast enough, they were made to work naked for the entire day, and why worsen their humiliation by gawking? She figured.

Role call went by without anyone playing hero for once, a fact she was grateful for. On any given morning a single inmate might decide it was worth attempting a spontaneous and fatal bout for freedom, and on worse days entire groups of mice would end up dead after their improvised weapons proved unworthy of the task set to them.

Then came the worst part of the day, the part she couldn't stand to the point where she literally had to bite her fists to keep from protesting and ending up dead herself. The time when the new inmates came in.

This time was different however. For the first time since all five hundred and six of them had been secretly shipped to Earth, to aid in Lawrence Limburger's excavation of the beautiful planet's resources, some of the new slaves weren't mice. Hell, they weren't even Martian.

Harley had seen a human before, sometimes their Television broadcasts would somehow end up interrupting Martian transmissions back when she was a small child. She remembered how her father swore because the big race, her mother was participating in on the other side of the planet, was interrupted by a show called "She-Ra: Princess of Power".

Personally she had enjoyed the program but hadn't dared mention that to her relatives at the time, and certainly she never dreamed she would one day end up in a great rebellion of her own.

But this was the first time Harley had seen a human in person. To be brutally honest, her first reaction was a mixture of pity and revulsion. Their skin was as exposed as newborns, no fur at all! Teeth and claws totally blunt and worthless, and such small ears. How could they hear anything?

No wonder they were always hollering at each other during the Television programs, they had to be nearly deaf. And possibly worse of all, no tail. How they managed to stay standing, without a tail for balance, baffled Harley especially in the case of the females who were all front with no counter balance.

They were shivering far more visibly than their Martian counterparts, causing the lovely medic to subconsciously stroke the fur on her own arms. Arrow bumped into her on purpose, as she waded through the crowd towards the newbies, chuckling at the way Harley could do nothing more than glare at her helplessly.

Slowly the obscenely large she-rat stalked the line of new arrivals, looking each individual up and down with meticulous care. Harley noticed a young woman trying to shove a male child behind her, a little ways down from Arrow's current location, and prayed that she had been the only one to catch the sudden movement.

That prayer went unheeded by every deity in the Martians impressive pantheon, maybe they were hard of hearing too. 'That would explain a lot.' Harley growled to herself.

Arrow's claws shot out as swift and true as her namesake and snagged the fair haired child by his shirt collar causing the toddler to squeal with fear and make a useless attempt to cling to his caretaker. The female human practically tried to climb over Arrow to get to her charge, pleading shamelessly the entire time, the rats just laughed all the more.

There was a burly, handsome male with light brown hair standing within arms reach of the spectacle. Harley stood on her tip-toes and spotted a tattoo on his bicep. It was the image of some sort of large bird of prey perched atop a globe with an anchor incorporated into it. Just barely old enough to recall when Mars had oceans, the golden furred mousette remembered that anchors often symbolized the strength and stability of individuals involved in the nautical armed forces. His demeanor was calm, almost serene, and Harley knew what was going to happen next. The man was the same as Stoker, a warrior born and trained. This was the calm before the sudden eruption into action.

Sure as the sunrise the man couldn't help himself. He lunged at the she-rat in an effort to pry the boy free and despite performing various impressive offensive maneuvers, sheer strength won out. Though in his defense, it was widely known that Arrow cheated by using steroids. The human soldier received a broken jaw from Arrow's kick and before he could retaliate five grown male rats laid into him with strikes from weapons known as Black Jacks and common brass knuckles. If the soldier could have looked into his immediate future, he would have counted himself lucky that's all they were doing to him. He was in for worse.

Arrow waited patiently as the males had their fun. She looked like a proud mother as she witnessed the out and out massacre. When the males stepped back, painting from excursion and smiling like idiots, Arrow leaned down and gripped the man by his belt. she unceremoniously dragged him along with the crying child still securely in her grasp.

This would work into the Plutarkians agenda perfectly, nothing demoralized newbies' more than witnessing the slaughter of a child and a would-be-hero. It got the message across hard and fast, and the message was this:

Don't bother, trying not to give us reason to kill you. We don't need a reason anyhow.

What happen next was unspeakable. It turned out that the Plutarkians had a distant relative, of sorts, who was native to the warmer climates of Earth. The humans called them Piranha and properly starved the vicious beasts could strip the flesh off a grown Martian in less then three minutes.

Harley plugged her ears and hummed a lullaby her mother used to sing to her back when the universe was still sane. It did little to drown out the child's final yelp of terror as Arrow flung him into the frothing tank or the man's resigned grown as he gave in to cruel reality. The remaining humans had gasped on mass but still possessed enough good sense not to shout or act upon their anger. Apparently humans learned quickly.

Searching the receding crowd, as the Earthlings were herded away to be collared and processed, Harley spotted the woman who had tried to save the child. She actually couldn't be called a woman, not yet anyway. Now that the ex-medic had time to really look at her the human female appeared to be just a child herself, barely into her teens with a petite frame and a long sheet of jet black hair.

Her large hazel eyes were staring blankly at the crimson tank. He mouth worked up and down but no sounds came out, it was as though her mind couldn't comprehend what had just transpired. Then suddenly, horror gripped her features, her tiny body seemed to collapse in on itself and she fell to her knees, repeating a name at the top of her lungs over and over again between her sobs.

"Toby! Toby!"

'She's lost it.' Harley realized 'After everything she's been through, being kidnapped, finding out that other species exist, that her planet is doomed, this must have been the final straw.' That meant only one thing. Harley swallow hard, even though her mouth was completely dry.

Crazy people made lousy slaves and even worse servants, the Plutarkians had no use for dead weight and had left specific instructions as to the proper disposal procedure. Harley's work detail was slowly being marched towards their transport unit and for once she wished they were doing double-time. At this rate they'd never get on the ship in time to avoid it, she was going to witness her third murder of the day. Despite her promise to herself, Harley still flinched as the shot rung out across the shipping bay and echoed several times.

"Damn it Scavenger!" Arrow bitched loudly with her hands balled into fists on her hips. She had a remarkably feminine voice and it always was a shock to the senses to hear it. The sound simply did not go with her appearance at all. "How many times do I gotta tell ya, ya flippin' genius. Take the scum outside BEFORE you off them." the chocolate and vanilla furred rodent turned abruptly and snarled over her shoulder as she made to leave, "You do realize that you're gonna be the one to clean that up, right?"

That's when salvation came ridding in on three of the most beautiful bikes Harley ever had the privilege to be associated with. As usual the trio of Freedom Fighters( plus one ridding behind Vinnie, surprisingly enough) made their own entrance by blasting through a solid steel wall. Confusion erupted around her as the Rats broke out of their shock and grabbed any weapon within arms reach. Some even grabbed hostages to use as shields.

Harley was already half way up the ramp, no closer to the ship than she was to the ground, and a huge black furred rat with red eyes and a ragged right ear was roughly shoving whoever he could onto the transport. Her body made the decision for her before her mind could protest. Mustering strength she had no clue still dwelled within her, the golden furred mousette coiled her leg muscles and leapt to the cement floor.

Harley's landing was hard and completely without grace but that didn't matter. She had to get up! This was the closest to freedom she had been in… 'Sweet Mars, I've lost track of time. I have no idea how long I've been away. Will they even recognize me?'

A loud thud sounded just behind her and Harley turned, reluctantly, for fear of what might meet her blue gaze. Sure enough, it was the mammoth black rat, grinning with the usual evil intent only this individual had the added charm of drooling.

'Not now! I can't die now, I'm so close, I survived so much damn it!' Suddenly, all the pent up frustration and anger came boiling to the surface. Harley had never believed her patience when they spoke of out of body experiences in the past, she had simply pretended to believe them and keep her thoughts on the subject to herself the way a good healer should, but at that moment when fury gripped her so completely… she became a believer.

Upon reflection, Harley could say that the experience was best described as the true Harley simply stepping aside and a superhero had taken control of the handlebars. So great was her desperate need to live, that the once gentle medic all but physically transformed into a Martian Amazon. She was aware of herself using her medical training to more effectively harm her opponent, she knew just where to strike to best break bones, the location of pressure points best left alone, and the whereabouts of vital organs deep within their fleshy fortification.

As one enemy fell, another streaked in to take his place. One after another, rats succumbed to the result of the bassist of all instincts, the will to survive. As Harley fought she was unaware of her own heaving chest and burning lungs. She simply focused her efforts on reaching whichever of the three all too familiar individuals was closest to her at any given moment.

It all seemed like some endless nightmare, opponent after opponent, with no end in sight until finally, a gentle hand covered in gray fur stilled her beating fists. Slowly she turned to face this unexpected arrival and was rewarded when a familiar voice said in a bewildered tone,

"Oh Mama, you got to be kidding me… Harley? Girl, is that…"

"Modo?" she had squeaked and suddenly felt very dizzy. Luckily, the much taller Martian was kind enough to help her to stand and continued to support her as he shouted over to his bros to come see who he had found. Apparently the battle had ended while Harley was still hypnotized by her own rage.

Vinnie had started in on her almost immediately, once he realized who she was. He let out one of those wild whoops of his and pumped his fist in the air just like she remembered seeing him do a million times before. Next thing she knew he was already off his bike, he actually let Sweetheart fall over! She remembered hearing the bike growling it's engine in shock and the shout of surprise that must have been Charlene also tumbling to the ground.

In the blink of an eye the white mouse was across the death camp's docking bay, hugging her in such a manner that she'd swear he was going to break her remaining good ribs. That was, until Charlene had caught up to him and smacked him on the back of his helmet.

Harley smiled to herself. 'I like this person.' she had thought at the time and was now glad to find, having gotten to know Charlene a little better in a scant few hours, that it was true.

Modo's reaction was the exact opposite of his bro's. As always he conducted himself as a gentle mouse, calm and soft spoken. He had checked her out to make sure Vinnie hadn't harmed her in his excitement and the lovely mousette was proud to see the gray giant remembered all the first aid she had taught him.

As her mind drifted back to the present Harley remembered that she was still dieing to ask Modo about his family. His famous Mama, his sister and her twins, especially Rimfire. Rimfire's developing crush was just one more irritant that the war had thrown her way but all things considered she still loved the kid, in a big sister sort of way, and she wanted to know he was alright.

'I'll ask Modo later. Don't think ether of us could take it right now, if the answer was a worse case scenario. Besides, I don't know how to work a human communiqué device.' she frowned in sudden realization 'Or what one even looks like, for that matter.'

Somewhere in her exhaustion she filed away the image of Modo helping Charlene onto Lil' Hoss as they got ready to return home. Where they dating or was the big fellah just being nice? Seeing's how Vinnie took it upon himself to give Harley Charlene's place on his bike, the latter was more likely. She hoped Charlene wasn't mad. Okay, to be more specific, she hoped the mechanic wasn't mad at her. After all, Vinnie was the one who broke the 'Bros before Hos' rule.

'Not that Charlene would be any happier being called a bro as I would being referred to as a ho.' Harley chuckled to herself and made a mental note not to do that again. Her ribs didn't like it.

When Throttle had first seen her he had smiled at like he was pleased but wasn't sure if he should believe his eyes or not. Given his optical status, maybe he couldn't. 'When I'm back to at least sixty-percent I'll give the guys a physical. We'll see if life on Earth has done any subtle damage they may not have noticed yet.' a muscle spasm in her back, near where her tail joined her body, made her violently arch her body and hiss in a gasp through her teeth. 'Okay, at least eighty-percent.'

Charlene came running into the room, still holding a wooden spoon which dripped a delicious smelling liquid on the floor, as she rushed to her guest's side.

Harley marveled at the thought of a planet which still had the luxury of using wood for such common household items. How long had it been since the last trees on Mars had been strategically hidden in the secret garden? She lazily glanced around the room, noting that several pieces of furniture were also wooden, and were those books on that shelf? Oh how she missed reading out of a real book instead of a glowing screen. Maybe Charlene would teach her to read human, lend her a few tomes… but no. she couldn't ask, not after everything else her fellow woman had already done for her, and was planning to continue doing until she was better, and Mars only knew how long that would take.

"Harley? Harley! Can you hear me? Oh come on lady, don't do this to me, they can't lose you after just getting you back."

Charlene sounded deeply concerned for some reason, then Harley realized that she had let her overtired mind wander for so long she had ignored her host's inquiries about her health.

"I'm okay, sorry to have worried you like that." or at least that's what she had tried to say. It came out more like, "…kay…rry…orri….hat." then everything went black.

End of Chapter One

Author's Notes: Couple of hidden tidbits I wanted to share, some you may have guessed already and others you have no way of knowing (I hope).

1) Harley's cell block code is actually my birth date. S-3-85, S meaning September. It was ether that or I could've gone with the date Godzilla was invented. For some reason those are the first things to come to mind whenever I need a sequence of numbers and/or letters.

2) For those of you too young to remember She-Ra: Princess of Power, it's a real cartoon. Go look it up, you won't regret it, she's every bit as cool as her twin brother He-man. (How's that for a shameless plug? Eat your heart out Jay Leno.)

3) This isn't a hidden treasure so-to-speak, I just wasn't sure if I was clear enough, the man who tries to save the child is supposed to be a Marine. I decided to make him a member of the Corps with all due respect intended. My cousin Michael is an ex-marine but I'll admit it, my love for the Marine Corps definitely began when I got hooked on NCIS. Agent Gibbs is one hot Grandpa… He makes me think of a human version of Stoker.

4) I got to the part where I needed to describe the human girl and her little brother and I thought, "Damn. Now I gotta name the kid."

For reasons that escape even me, I heard Jennifer Connelly's voice shouting "Toby!" like she did in the movie Labyrinth, in my head.

"Okay," I said to myself "His name's Toby and they bear a creepy resemblance to the kids from Labyrinth. May Jim Henson's ghost forgive me."

That's all for now, see you in chapter two!


	2. Revving the Engine

Disclaimer: Still don't own the bros or any of their friends/enemies/bikes. Heck, I don't even own the action figures.

Chicago belongs to America and Mars to J'onn J'onez. Just kidding… I hear he recently sold it to Bruce Wayne. ^_~

Claimer: I do own the Bakerat clan, consisting of Arrow the rat and her five brothers. They're only mentioned in this chapter but I'll give them proper time in the next one.

Charley leaned against the door frame of her bedroom's bath, arms folded around her and biting her lower lip. It was a good thing the room was so crowded or she wouldn't be able to resist pacing. She avoided looking at her bros, especially Vinnie, as much as she could. They had entrusted her with the care of a dear friend and almost as soon as they left her side, Harley had taken a turn for the worse.

Now Modo was kneeling at her bedside checking Harley's back. Vinnie had flinched when the older mouse had pulled up his crush's shirt to examine her spine but Throttle stopped any protest before it could happen by gently squeezing the white mouse's shoulder.

"From what I can tell, she just needs a chiropractor. Her back's out in several places and a muscle spasm caused the throbbing, but it's nothin' permanent. Must've happened when she jumped off the ramp and all that twisting and turning during the battle didn't help. The pain caused her to pass out but that was the worse of it." he shrugged as he stood and turned to Charley, the one he felt was taking this development the hardest.

"Couple days of lying still and it should fix itself. Towards the end of it, try adding a little pressure to the lower half of her spine." he took Charley by the elbow and gently pulled her towards the other woman's prone form so he could point out the area he was referring to.

Throttle arched an eyebrow. "How's she supposed to do that big guy?"

"By sitting on her."

"Sitting on her?!" Vinnie baulked and shook his head as if to clear his ears of water "Wait a minute, you want Charley-girl to sit on a severely injured person's back?" he frowned fiercely at the older mouse "And you actually think that's gonna help? Bro, how many beers did you chug before we left the board?"

Modo fought to keep his temper in check. Did the kid think he was totally stupid? Sure he was a little slower than most mice but come on. "First off, Miss Charley doesn't weigh that much. Secondly, did you not hear the part about waiting a few days? The lower part of the spine is less flexible than the rest, towards the end of this Miss Harley's back is gonna need some help."

"Yeah but sitting on her? It's just… it's degrading." Vinnie was shaking and his normal arsenal of snappy comebacks seemed to have deserted him. Throttle made a mental note to mark the calendar when they got home.

Meanwhile, their resident gentle giant was swiftly loosing his patience. "Look little man, in an ideal situation we could just take her to a real chiropractor and have it fix right now, but since we're dealing with reality here, we gotta go with what we can manage." he emphasized the last three words by poking Vinnie in the chest.

Charlene finally found her voice "Besides, we need to give her ribs time to heal. It's not like I'm going to start now."

The look he shot her took the blue eyed woman off guard. Vinnie had never been mad at her before, flirted yes, teased of course, but mad? She had always figured Vincent Van Wham reserved that emotion solely for the Plutarkians.

Throttle stepped in before the disagreement could blossom into a full out argument "Easy Vincent. Modo knows what he's talking about, he's never steered us wrong before. Show'em a little trust."

Vinnie balled up his fists and for a fleeting moment Charley actually thought he was going to slug his leader. She held her breath and prayed the three guys weren't bull headed enough to start fighting in the same room as their injured comrade. Much to her relief, Vinnie closed his red eyes, heaved a sigh and muttered something that sounded like "Fine. Sorry."

He started to leave when Harley suddenly groaned and tried to sit up, causing Vinnie to turn on his heels and shoot back to her side. Charley had never seen anyone move that fast before, at least, not without a motorcycle beneath them.

The two of them knelt on ether side of the bed and the mechanic tenderly pushed her guest back down, whispering soothingly "Easy girlfriend. You're in my room, just lay still."

"Hush, she's trying to say something." Throttle leaned forward and put his hands on Charley's shoulders.

"Say it again Sweetheart, we didn't catch that." Vinnie lovingly stroked Harley's hair.

'He never did that whenever I took a hit.' the Earth woman thought sadly and tried not to dwell on it.

"Too late. Didn't save Toby…" the mousette mumbled almost sobbing.

The three males all turned to Charley expectantly but all she could do was slowly shake her head. "I'm sorry guys," she shrugged "I haven't the faintest clue who that is."

"But it's a human name." Vinnie insisted.

"So's yours bro." Throttle pointed out "I mean, sort of. It could be another such case. A cultural coincidence."

"I'm sorry Vinnie. Harley and I didn't get a chance to talk much before she collapsed." Charlene offered the preverbal olive branch only to get snubbed for her troubles.

"Whatever." the white mouse snapped impatiently as he brushed Harley's bangs away from her eyes. "I left her here because I trusted you Charlene." he whispered and his bros could almost feel the frost coming off such an icy comment.

Modo frowned and wrapped his arms around her as Charley fought back tears. Vinnie didn't seem to notice.

Watching his friend emotionally deflate made Throttle's temper flair. Charley-girl didn't deserve being treated like this, she wasn't the one who hurt Harley. "Vincent, a word with you. The garage. Now."

"Can't it wait?" he sighed.

"I said, now." The tan mouse growled over his shoulder, already heading out the door towards the stairs.

As Vinnie reluctantly followed his leader outside, Modo lovingly rubbed Charley's back. Times like this, she really reminded him of his elder sister. "Don't fret over it too much Charley ma'am. Throttle will set him straight. Vinnie didn't mean to be like that anyway. He's been cranky ever since we made him leave with us last night."

Charlene felt like she should say something but nothing intelligent came to mind. So instead she simply turned to nuzzle the fur on Modo's neck and whispered her thanks.

**** **** **** ****

Harley lay quietly and pretended to still be semi-unconscious. A lot was going on all of a sudden and she seemed to be the focal point of the storm.

Vinnie had always been a quick change artist when it came to mood swings. One time she had prescribed him a medication normally reserved for relieving PMS symptoms, that had gotten a good laugh from the rest of the rebels, but in the here and now Vincent's attitude seemed out of control. Why did he blame Charlene? She was the one who responded so quickly when she needed help.

'Typical Vinnie.' Harley resisted the urge to sigh with exasperation 'Speak first, think never. Maybe when Throttle's through with him I'll take a turn at giving him what-for.'

She cracked open her eyes the slightest bit and was greeted by the sight of Modo comforting Charlene. Was she really that worried over her? The medics cheeks flushed with a sudden warmth. Charlene was certainly different than Carbine.

Not that Harley had anything against the General personally, she simply wasn't the easiest person to get along with most of the time. Especially when one was suggesting the over worked officer take time off to relieve work related stress. 'That had gone well.' Harley joked to herself.

Deciding to dare it, the golden furred female reached out and touched the mechanic's arm. Their eyes met and Harley managed to say, "Hey there." she wanted to say more but Charlene leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Harley blinked with surprise and noticed the tears in her new friend's eyes. Red blotches had appeared on Charlene's cheeks and across the bridge of her small nose, a side effect of crying. It was kind of cute.

"I am so sorry Harley." the human blurted the apology so fast that the mousette almost didn't catch it. Modo sighed and muttered something about stringing up Vinnie with his own tail later.

Harley smiled, remembering not to let herself laugh as much for Charlene's sake as her own. The distraught Earthling might take it the wrong way and the last thing Harley wanted was to add to her hostess's pain.

"Don't let that hot head get to you girl." the petite medic managed to whisper "If Vinnie only spoke when he had something intelligent to say, then he'd never talk at all."

Modo laughed heartily at that one and Charlene couldn't help a small chuckle of her own.

"That's better." Harley winked "Anyone ever tell you, you have a great smile."

The Chi town native roughly rubbed the tears from her eyes "Hey now, I'm supposed to be making you feel better, not the other way around."

"Can't help it." the mousette smirked "Healer's instinct I guess. That and I could never stand to see a lady cry."

The brunette woman laughed in earnest this time "That last part almost sounded like something Vinnie would say."

"Oh Gods, put me out of my misery now, please." Harley joked and dramatically hid her face in the pillow.

Modo shook his head but he was smiling brightly "You two act like you've known each other for years." he stood up, releasing Charlene from their embrace. Now that he could see both women were in good company with each other, he felt it was safe to check on his bros. To be more specific, to make sure Throttle hadn't lived up to the second definition of his name and shut up their younger team member permanently.

As he reached the top of the stairs he could already hear their voices beginning to raise to the same volume as the radio. Soon they were drowning out poor Sweet Georgie Brown's admirable attempt to announce the next song. "Oh Mama lend me your strength." Modo groaned and shut Charley's bedroom door before the women could catch wind of what was going on down stairs. "This one's gonna be a dozy."

**** **** **** ****

Meanwhile back on Mars…

Stoker resisted the urge to tap his foot. His bionic tail was whipping about agitatedly, it had already snapped the legs off a metal table situated behind him. The old soldier wrote down a note reminding himself to borrow a blowtorch from the motor pool so he could fix it before Carbine found out. Judging from the way the youngsters were avoiding him lately, he must have had the universe's meanest looking scowl plastered on his face. He rationalized to himself that he was entitled to be irritable.

Harley was back. The sweetest, prettiest, and bravest mousette he had the pleasure of knowing in many long years suddenly came (proverbially) strutting back into his life.

But as luck would have it, she was too injured to make the trip back to Mars with the other freed POWs, and guess who got assigned to play Ringmaster to the paperwork Circus that ensued? If Carbine so much as mentioned his foul mood she was going to get an earful. She had no right to complain anyhow, it wasn't like he had hurt anyone…yet.

Okay, that kid's bike didn't count, it had been in his way and he probably would have kicked it over nevertheless.

The brown furred elder sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes shut to block out the screen in front of him. The words had begun to blur together as he read them. This, he was certain, was a result of too much work and not enough sleep. In no way did it imply that maybe his eyes were beginning to go, no, that wasn't possible. He wasn't old yet, why he was only… well that wasn't important.

'Screw it.' he growled to himself and saved the file he was working on. He was at least a day ahead of schedule, he could afford to turn in early for once.

Almost as if on cue, the Red alert went off. "Mother of Mars!" Stoker rushed out into the corridor, nearly plowing down a cadet. "Whoa there son," he caught the white furred kid before he could hit the ground and thought how much the boy looked like Vinnie at that age. Except this kid had a grey right ear and brown eyes. "Where's the fire?"

"No fire sir,"

Stoker rolled his eyes.

"Just that big-ass Rat and her bros have torn loose and made off with a cruiser."

"What?! Gods help me, they'll make for Earth." As Stoker turned to race to the command center he unceremoniously dropped the boy on his tail and shouted over his shoulder at him as he left, "And watch your mouth kid, if you get used to swearing it's hard to stop."

'There's my good deed for the day.' he joked sardonically to himself. A part of him was ashamed of the plan already forming in his mind. This was the perfect excuse to go to Earth. Apprehend some war criminals, hang out with the boys, do some property damage to that stinky bastard Limburger, maybe even get to enjoy some of Charlene's home cooking. This is what he needed. To get back into the action and as far away from that office as he could get for as long as he could manage it, yes sir that was the plan. And if he got to simultaneously catch up with a certain golden furred lady, all the better.

The part that was ashamed was quickly being overpowered by other areas of the brain that normally concerned themselves with the pleasurable side of life. The battle of responsibility verses male impulse was over and won, the latter the victor, by the time Stoker had commandeered one of the few remaining cruisers and sent a short but sweet explanation to Carbine.

Damn but that child had a set of lungs on her! The old rebel conveniently lost his communiqué link just as Carbine got to the part of how she might as well be fighting this war alone (that actually did bring some measure of guilt back to the surface but Stoker squashed it down by reminding himself about the 'apprehending war criminals' part).

In less than a day the hero would be using his hands for what the Gods really gave them to him for, basing in fish and rat skulls. Silently he swore to himself that he wouldn't so much as look at a computer the entire trip.

Author's note: Short and simple this time, all I did this chappy was give the rats a certain clan name. Bakerat is a combination of Baker and rat in honor of Ma Baker and her boys. I quote the famous song by Boney M, "This is the story of Ma Baker, the meanest (rat) from ol' Chicago town." ^_^

Oh yeah, I apologize for picking on Stoker, I love that guy so much I just couldn't resist.

As for why this took so long.

First, I've been communicating with Disney about a summer internship (things are going well, thank you for caring) that's the good news.

Second, my baby-cousin decided it was time to tie the knot with his sweetie and I've been scrambling to finish their wedding present before this Saturday (Feb 27th). Brilliant me, I just had to go and make a gift instead of buying one! I'm such a show off… That's the great news.

Thirdly, I've had a falling out with my dad. He hit me the last time I visited him and Ma and I decided, while I still love him and will treat him with respect, I will not go out of my way to see him or help him in any way at all. It was a hard choice that has taken me years to finally go through with but it's done now, thank God. Don't worry about Ma, he knows she would hit him back. ^_~

Anyway, Rock and Ride fellow citizens, until we meet again in future chapters!


	3. Construction Zone

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Throttle, Vinnie, Modo, Stoker, or Rimfire. For no lack of wanting to. The evil that would ensue is not legally printable in this country. Nor do I own Primer, Carbine, and Charlene. Not into girls, sorry. I do own, however, the Bakerat clan. Arrow and her five brothers; Surge, Behemoth, Wraith, Scavenger and Baby. They're evil, ruthless and have bad hygiene but their mine, and I love 'em. In that "only a mother could" kinda way.

**Author's note**: I've started calling Charlene's eyes by their proper color, green, in this chapter. I'll go back and fix the other chapters later, just as soon as I get a free moment. I'm sticking to continuity for the most part, the fellahs drink more Root-beer than actual beer for example, but I refuse to use the Chicago Nubs and instead use the real life Chicago Cubs. I have no reason to fear a lawsuit or massive royalty fees unlike poor Mr. Ungar did back in the day.

It'd been a couple of days since 'the incident', as Modo so politely referred to it, and things seemed to be looking up. Charlene had woken early and used the shower first, she was dressed in cut off jeans, a white tank top and had her thick hair pulled back in a messy bun. When her guest came downstairs, she was preparing cinnamon flavored oatmeal on the gas stove.

Harley smiled as she leaned over the small pot and breathed deeply the rich scent. "My new favorite."

Charlene laughed "You say that about everything I cook."

"And I mean it every time too." The golden furred lady yawned as she turned to find the bathroom "You're going to make me fat Charlene Davidson." she called over her shoulder.

"That's the plan." The human woman called back. "I won't rest until my clothes fit you properly!"

Harley looked down at the Chicago Cubs jersey she was wearing. It hung on her like a curtain in a window. The mousette found herself in the unique position of being a woman who could enjoy putting on a lot of weight, for a while at least.

Entering the shower stall and discarding the shirt, Harley turned on the water and sighed. She could get used to this very easily. Life on Earth was so relaxing. Of course, living rent free with her own personal combination cook and nurse wasn't exactly the norm.

Charlene had shown her which bottles held the shampoo and conditioners and Harley purposefully did an extra thorough job of cleaning up. Once she was properly rinsed, she sat on the toilet seat's carpet like cover and toweled herself until her fur fluffed beautifully. She located a stiff brush and set to work, being ever mindful of her still badly injured back. With that done, Harley decided to put on some make-up.

She wanted to look her best for Charlene, to have the other woman's respect. Looking in the mirror at the pathetically thin and scruffy creature she had become was almost painful. She wanted her new best friend to see the real Harley, the mouse she had been before the Plutarkians had gotten their slimy mitts onto her.

A look of determination came over her features and Harley set about picking out what to wear. She choose a light pink shirt with short puffy sleeves and a blue pair of low-rider jeans. She slipped on a yellow pair of sandals and began applying her make-up. Normally she went for blue eyeshadow, to emphasize her eyes, but this morning she opted for pink, to highlight the shirt. She pick out a light lip gloss and decided not to over do it.

As the refreshed medic made her way back down stairs and through the garage she noticed something out of the ordinary. Sometime during the night, Vinnie had apologized to Charlene in a typical insecure male fashion, by abandoning a bouquet of wild flowers on her desk. The note simply stated, _~You know you love me._

Harley rolled her eyes but decided to cut the pretty-boy a break. He was trying to do the right thing after all. She carried the bouquet into the kitchen just as Charlene was dishing out the oatmeal.

Straightening up and brushing a strand of auburn from out of her eyes, Charlene smiled "Well, don't we look pretty. Makes me wish I had made an effort today."

Not even thinking, Harley snapped the card off the flowers, stuffed it into her back pocket and took the bouquet out from behind her back. "Uh, here."

Charlene's green eyes widened with happy surprise. "Oh sweetheart, you didn't have too." she took a deep draft of the wild flowers scent.

"I wanted to." Harley blurted and tried not to think of Vinnie. 'I stole his apology. I owe him big time.'

"Um, Charlene? Could you do something for me?"

"Anything hon. What do you need?" the human hummed to herself as she retrieved a simple glass vase for the flowers and placed them in the center of the kitchen table.

"Forgive Vinnie?"

Charlene sighed and patted the chair next to her. "It's not your fault you know. We were all on edge that night, worried that we were going to loose you. Don't worry, okay? I've already forgiven him." she smirked weakly "I just hope he's forgiven me."

Harley swore she could feel the card in her pocket as she sat on it, "Trust me, he cares about you." she gently squeezed her friend's hand and shot her a playful smirk of her own. "Almost as much as I do."

Their laughter was cut short as a familiar voice called from the office in the garage. Charlene went to answer it and insisted that Harley begin eating.

Pressing the on switch for the monitor, Charley sat in front of the small, cobbled together communiqué device and was greeted by the image of a weary looking Carbine.

"Evening Ms. Davidson, though I suppose by Earth time it's early morning."

Charlene nodded. "What can I do for you General?"

"You mean besides shipping my Uncle home via FedEx?" the lovely brunette mousette smirked, making her human ally ponder just how much of a joke that comment really was. "I wanted to make the orders official. The boys are to aid Stoker in any and all ways possible. I want that old ba… uh, soldier, and those war criminals back on Martian soil ASAP. Think you can pass that along for me?"

"Sure thing. The bros are waiting for him back at the stadium right now. I take it you couldn't get a hold of them?" Charlene's brow furrowed.

"They're probably outside, playing one of your peoples' sports, and purposefully avoiding my calls." Carbine sighed, and Charlene sympathized with the over worked woman.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Charlene put on a cheerful face, "Hey, you know we found Harley, right? Well, she's just in the next room if you want me to get her. Give you gals a chance to catch up."

Carbine looked uncomfortable for a moment and tucked a strand of her mane behind one of her antennae. "Oh, uh, no. Thanks anyway Ms. Davidson. Harley and I were never all that close, don't get me wrong, we worked well together and I'm glad she's okay it's just… I wouldn't know what to say."

"Oh." Charlene blinked, slightly surprised by the reaction she received.

"But please tell her I'm relieved that she's safe. I know you'll take good care of her." Carbine smiled, she hesitated a moment, as though deciding on something. Then she shook her head and muttered "Screw it."

Looking Charlene in the eye she added, "Look Ms. Davidson, Charlene, Harley's… how do I put this? She's… not mainstream."

The perplexed look on her Earth contact's face meant she would have to elaborate, 'Damn it, how do I warn her without breaking my promise? She has a right to know, especially if she's sharing her home with her.'

"Just don't get too… friendly with her, okay?"

"I'm sorry General, I simply don't understand. And even if I did, I think it might be too late to curb a friendship with Harley. We're getting along great." the pretty mechanic smiled "Like sisters almost."

Carbine looked slightly ill. "Sisters, right." she shook her head again and sighed. "Okay, I leave you to your own discretion but if nothing else, please promise me you will think on this point,"

Charlene promised, feeling a potent mixture of curiosity and mild dread.

"Stoker and Vinnie both pursued Harley back in the day. Each is desirable in his own way. Stoker has charm, experience and romance on his side. Vinnie is exciting, has a positive attitude, and is endlessly loyal to his loved ones. Not to mention that nether one of them are slouches in the looks department." Carbine's expression was so serious it was almost comical "Now why do you think Harley hardly gave ether of them the time of day unless they were injured?"

Charlene shrugged "I always figured it was too hard for her to choose, that and she didn't want to hurt the other one."

"Not quite." Carbine looked at her human friend with what Charlene could have sworn was pity. "You're a smart girl, I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually. But just so you know, I'm here if you need to talk, okay?"

This offer caught the green eyed woman off guard and she prayed it didn't show on her face. "Uh, sure. Thank you General."

Carbine grinned "One last thing, you can drop the formalities when we're alone. It'd be nice to be treated like a normal person every now and again. I trust you not to abuse the privilege."

Charlene winked in understanding, "Alright, Carbine." Her Martian friend returned the gesture then terminated the transmission.

Pushing aside the potpourri of emotions welling inside her chest; accomplishment, wonder, frustration and concern, Charlene returned to the kitchen.

"Carbine says hi and she's glad you're alright." the auburn haired lady retook her seat across from her guest. "Sorry she didn't have time to chat but with Stoker flying the coop, she's swamped with extra duties."

"A regular Ms. Congeniality. Nice to see some things never change." The golden furred mousette laughed tersely.

"Maybe after all this is over we'll get to see the real Carbine. The woman she hides under all that responsibility." Charlene quickly caught up on eating her breakfast.

The bros were at the board waiting on Stoker's impending arrival, wherein the quartet would go rat hunting. To keep both herself and her charge from worrying, Charlene set about teaching Harley how life on Earth worked.

Going over the workings of a phone were simple enough, Harley declined calling the fellows as a way of practicing. She couldn't bare the thought of Vincent picking up, the guilt was still too fresh to deal with. She'd make it up to him later, somehow.

The Internet and Television didn't interest Harley in the slightest but her hostess' impressive supply of books was beyond tempting.

"You'll need to learn how to read English first. No offense but I'd prefer to teach you the old fashioned way." she looked uncomfortable admitting what she was about to say, "Throttle didn't ask, the first time he mind-walked with me, he just went ahead and did it. I'm still a little cagey of having someone else traipsing through my head again."

"Whoa." Harley blinked "I'd have never expected that of Throttle."

"Maybe he thought I wouldn't mind, seeing how humans aren't normally telepathic."

"That's no excuse." Harley insisted. "Such an act is discouraged in Martian society. At it's best, it's bad manners, at it's worse it can be a type of rape."

"The guys would never hurt me." Charlene laughed timidly. She didn't want to admit that this was exactly how she had felt about it at the time.

"Of course, never on purpose. But sweetheart, back then you were just a stranger so they didn't care ether way. Now you're like a sister to them. They may feel entitled to that level of trust and intimacy. Being from a different culture, you have different boundaries." Harley lifted Charlene's chin to look her in the eye, "Next time, let them know how you feel about it. It may hurt their feelings a bit, but you have a right to mental comfort."

Charlene stared at her a moment then she smiled softly and took Harley's hand from under her jaw line. She kissed her friend's knuckles "Thanks hon."

Harley felt her cheeks grow warm and was grateful that her fur covered her blush. "Sure, anytime."

"Let's get started then. We've got a lot to cover. English is the second most difficult language on Earth. Mandarin Chinese being the only one that's harder." the mechanic rolled her eyes "I've heard you practically have to be born in that country to master that dialect."

The pretty medic was a quick study and within a few hours of instruction Harley had mastered the written form of the English language. She'd have been lying to herself, if she didn't admit to fumbling a few lessons on purpose. Just to prolong the time she got to spend cozy-up on the old leather couch, listening to her hostess' recite passages from a lovely play called 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'.

When she dared not fake ignorance any longer, the lesson eventually came to it's inevitable end.

Harley blinked in surprise when Charlene reached out and toyed with the mousette's blond locks. The human had a peculiar look on her face, like she was trying to see something through a hazy mist.

"What?" the Martian inquired playfully, "In my gluttonous enthusiasm, did I get oatmeal in my mane?"

"No, I was just thinking what a shame it is, what the Plutarkians did to your hair I mean. We should trim it so it grows back evenly." Charlene pulled back her hand and rested her head on it "That is, if you want to grow it back. I hear you looked great with long hair."

"Sure. Can I get a shampoo and style out of the deal while we're at it?"

Her green eyes sparkling with amusement, Charlene gently swatted her companion up side the head. "Don't push your luck lady!" she laughed.

While Charlene looked for her best scissors, Harley riffled though the bookshelves and boxes. Mostly the lady mechanic's collection entailed mysteries, classics, historical fictions and keepsakes from her childhood but there was one box that intrigued Harley in particular.

It's contents consisted solely of picture books, though hardly any of them seemed aimed at a child audience. There were speech bubbles, every volume printed in black and white and, strangest of all, they all read backwards.

Harley picked out a few. Sailor Moon for it's beautiful art, Revolutionary Girl Utena, for it's strange plot, and Gunsmith Cats simply because it was set in Chicago. Without hesitation she added them to her almost overflowing box and frowned in realization. Harley hated having to ask someone to carry it back to Charlene's room for her. If she had been in perfect health it wouldn't have been a problem but with her back the way it was…

"Don't even think about it." Charlene chided her as she came into the living room and confiscated the box. She carried it to the bedroom and placed it within comfortable arms reach of the bed. Harley was standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her when she came back down.

"I wasn't going to…"

"Sure you weren't." the mechanic scowled at her roommate "You always stare down a heavy object for no good reason? Come on Harley, please don't think twice about asking for help. I know you'd help me if our situation was reversed."

"Yeah, you're right." Harley smiled sheepishly, then her expression turned slightly evil. "So I can ask you anything, right? About your culture I mean."

Wary now, Charlene shot the shorter female a skeptical look. "Yes…" she said slowly.

"Care to explain this?" Harley cocked an eyebrow and dangled a yaoi manga in front of Charlene's face.

"It was a joke gift from an old friend!" Charley blurted in way of explanation and her gaze turned away from the explicit illustration on the cover, she was blushing brightly.

"But you kept it." Harley teased, waving the graphic novel delicately from her claws, just out of arms reach.

Quicker than her guest had expected of her, the auburn haired woman snatched the book back and stuck it high on a shelf, out of the mousette's reach. "It has a good plot." she muttered at her giggling friend. "Come on you," she gently tugged the mousette towards the bathroom "I found the scissors. And if you behave and promise never to tell the boys about that book," she smirked "I'll give you that shampoo and style you wanted."

**Meanwhile, high above the other side of town…**

The sun was bright, a few cotton like clouds lazily trekked along, leaving shadows on the Windy City below. The sky was crystal clear. How a pastel color could be so vibrant was something few people bothered to contemplate, least of all the occupants of a chrome colored space cruiser that silently zipped along just inside of the planet's lower hemisphere.

Arrow snarled and leaned over her brother's shoulder, pointing enthusiastically towards an image on the large viewing screen. "There, you miserable excuse of a rat, aim for that abandoned factory."

The scrawny gray male blinked his watery red eyes and hastened to do his sister's bidding. Despite being the second eldest and by far the most intelligent, Surge received no respect at all from his family. He was the furthest ideal from what society expected of a male rat and he suffered for it. Despite his usefulness with electronics and computers, he was most called upon whenever his younger brothers needed a moving target for practice.

Daring to cast a contempt filled glare at his brothers, Surge had to bite back a snarl of his own.

Next in age after him, and second in command, was Behemoth. He was amusing himself by knocking bits of plastic waste off of Scavenger's head; who, for his part, was smart enough to pretend not to notice.

Behemoth was perfect in their family's eyes, non more so than his own. Greasy black fur, blood red eyes, a deep resonating voice, a tail that could easily be mistaken for a python and a powerful, imposing figure of solid muscle. It was only his drooling problem that kept him from being popular with the lady rats back home.

Wraith was next in line, and being true to his nature, the stealthiest of the Bakerat clan somehow managed to be barely noticeable in the cramped, brightly lit command center of the cruiser. Out of all his siblings, Wraith was the only one Surge felt anything close to affection for. They were the most similar in build, but Wraith had a good deal of height on Surge and his body was taught with endless hours of martial arts training.

Black fur and black eyes with a voice that was permanently raspy from lack of use, Wraith had turned his disadvantage around by becoming a Shadowalker. It still wasn't traditional, but it also wasn't as bad as being an egghead scientist. As far as Arrow's opinion was concerned, and her's was the only one that counted in their lives, a ninja was at least a warrior.

Scavenger irritated Surge to no end. The brown furred and black eyed second to youngest was completely nondescript. He had no outstanding talents, unless suffering from kleptomania counted. He wasn't big or small nor was he particularly good with any one fighting style or weapon, but worst of all was how smart he really was. Scavenger was on par with Surge as far as IQ's were concerned but he refused to let on about it. He was content, flying under their sister's radar and being considered useful for being nothing more than an extra set of hands.

As Surge turned the cruiser to come in for a landing the youngest member of the Bakerat clan made his presence known. The back doors, which led to a reasonably large cargo bay, bucked and buckled under the vicious onslaught coming from behind them.

"Easy Baby. We're almost there darling." Arrow coed and instantly the din died down. Arrow was the only one who could control Baby, always had been ever since the monstrosity had been born. Less than eight years after that unfortunate birth, Baby had killed their parents. Snapped their father's neck and bashed their mother's skull in with as much enthusiasm as a child could muster. Surge still wondered if Arrow had told the freak to do it, but he didn't dare ask.

White furred with red eyes; mammoth for his age dwarfing even Behemoth, Baby was insane. Truly certifiable. His brothers referred to him as 'the family's secret… weapon' and the fear of having Baby sicked on them was probably the only thing keeping the older boys from seeking their own fortunes.

Surge set the cruiser to hover, which was the space ship equivalent of putting it in park and letting the engine idle. This was so Behemoth and Wraith could jump to the ground and open the large doors to the warehouse. Parking the cruiser inside was easier than burying it under tons of junk outside and it made a good time-out spot for Baby should one be needed (may all the Martian Gods forbid that coming to pass!).

Arrow's mind was already buzzing with ideas. The first step was to do reconnaissance which fell to Wraith and Scavenger. Maps of both Chicago and the rest of Illinois, plus a portable television to monitor news broadcasts with, were essential. Luckily these items where manufactured in abundance and easy pickings for the two master thieves.

"And nab whatever device the local law enforcement uses for communication." she added as she watched her little brothers disappear around a corner.

"A police scanner." Surge muttered to himself, only to feel the sting of his sister's tail snapping across his shoulders.

"Make yourself useful runt! Help Behemoth fortify this place. The junkyard should have ample supplies for that nimble mind of yours." she sneered and turned towards the cruiser.

"And what will you be doing, your majesty?" the gray furred male decided thee was no point in playing it safe when his muscle bound sibling was already in a crabby mood.

"What else? Getting Baby settled in and ready for his nap." she grinned wickedly over her shoulder "Unless you want to switch chores?" her tone was like poisonous honey.

"Okay, okay I get your point." he sighed "I'm not suicidal."

Resigned to his fate, Surge glanced around at the high-set large windows. Automatic guns were a must and black cloth would do until bullet proof glass could be scrounged up. That wouldn't help against laser fire but what the hell did they expect from him anyway? If they wanted miracles they should have traded him for a clergyman ages ago.

After a quick jaunt around the area, Surge had an impressive list of natural and man-made landmasses that could be of strategic use. He found himself wishing Scavenger and Wraith had waited to go on their little excursion, he could have given them a list of items that would have made his life so much easier. Ah well. They could only carry so much anyhow and they would have to go out again around sundown for a chow run. He'd give it to Wraith then.

Land mines would be restricted to the outer perimeter, any closer than that and one of his simple minded siblings stood a chance of being blown back to Mars in many pieces. And oh, what a shame that would be! But no, he had to behave, or dearest Arrow would present him to Baby as a new teething ring.

As for the interior of the surrounding territory, DNA sensitive stun guns would be preferable. Over the years, Surge had gathered a generous supply of Mouse DNA samples. Fur clippings and blood that could be used to program the easily cobbled weapons and thus reluctantly protect his family from their own carelessness. He made a mental note to gather some human samples as well, just in case the Earth bound Freedom Fighters had enlisted Indigenous Personal into their ranks.

He had heard rumors of a brilliant female Terrain, he wouldn't mind matching wits with her sometime soon, if she truly existed. It had been far too long since he had a worthy opponent in his own arena.

'Now all that leaves is how the heck am I going to get Behemoth to help me, without him screwing me into the ground like a nail?' Saying that it was Arrow's orders never helped, the black furred giant would only laugh himself silly and devise a new ultimate humiliation for his genius elder brother.

Then Arrow would find him (last time he was strung up with his own boxer shorts acting as a hogtie and run up a flag poll with his socks stuffed in his mouth) she would bitch him out, find Behemoth and line him a new tail, re-state her orders and leave Surge to whatever revenge Behemoth had chosen. Then, shortly after the bleeding stopped, he would track down his brother yet again and this time they would actually get to work.

"Man, is my life ever in a rut." he sighed yet again and set off to get the tedium over with.

**Hours later…**

"So sis, what's the game plan?"

"As soon as we finish up the final touches on the base, we make a bid for some territory." she chucked the turkey leg she had been gnawing on into the fire and through back her white and brown marked head to let loose a cackle "These apes won't know what hit 'em!"

"Literally." Scavenger guffawed idiotically from his place sitting Indian style by the fire. Wraith left his spot, leaning against the wall of the warehouse, to smacked his little brother over the head with his sheathed katana, and thus earned himself a nod of approval from Arrow.

"What about the local Plutarkian presence?" Surge hated to be the one to bring up bad news but someone had to. It was better than letting his brutish relation forget about the problem entirely and get them all shot in the back for what could be a preventable offense.

"Screw 'em I say." Behemoth spat, "We were on the fish-sticks pay roll most of our adult lives and what did it get us? A few laughs and almost a one way trip down death row!"

"Big bro's got a point sis." Scavenger murmured "I can think of fun'ner ways to get a death sentence than slaving for those stinking aqua-nuts."

"Well never let it be said that I ruled this family with a tyrant's hand." Arrow coed. The boys cringed, they hated it when she was nice. At least when she was ticked off they could guess what she was going to do. In this case though, their fears were unwarranted.

"We've heard two votes and I'm sure you can guess what mine will be." three of the four males snickered in response. "What say you Surge and Wraith? Do we play lap pet to that bastard Limburger, or do we carve the name of Bakerat into the posterior of this pitiful metropolis?"

Wraith drew his thumb across his throat in the universal gesture for 'kill' and left Arrow to interpret his meaning, naturally she took it as an agreement with the majority.

With all eyes upon him Surge's ears pinned against his skull and his whiskers drooped. He spread his hands in a futile gesture and smiled meekly, "Who am I to stand in the way of democracy?" he gulped and thought 'Ah hell, at least I tried.'

**Meanwhile, on that beautiful scarlet gem known as Mars…**

Out of the five hundred and five refugees retrieved in the last rescue mission two hundred and forty-eight were willing to join the Freedom Fighters, a welcome development if there ever was one. Unfortunately only about Ninety-three of those individuals were ready for full enlistment right out of the gate. The rest needed varying degrees of medical treatment and mental therapy. Some of them, she reluctantly admitted to herself, would never be truly well enough to join. Some might not make it even in civilian life again. The young General had the worse cases put on suicide watch, not a task she had relished.

Luckily a handful of nerdish teens had emerged from the masses and asked for clerk duties. Fighting to hide her glee, the beautiful warrior had eagerly handed over Stoker's abandoned assignment. The quartet of three girls; sisters from the sounds of it, and one fellow who was apparently their cousin, had enthusiastically delved into the project. Within hours they had the paperwork whipped. Every able body recruit assigned rank and responsibilities and each injured personal properly placed for treatment. It was no time at all until the small circle of friends were asking for more to do.

"I'd give ten champion riders and five expert snipers for each of you any day!" she had earnestly gushed, causing the child geniuses to twitch their tails and tug on their ears shyly. Having just located four stellar clerks and practically doubled her ranks in one fell swoop, Carbine allowed herself to enjoy an all too rare sense of contentment and accomplishment.

There was just one thing nagging at the back of her mind and it was all the boy genius's fault. It was nothing the poor kid could help, in fact he was totally oblivious to what he was doing to cause her anguish. Carbine politely excused herself from their presence and returned the wave goodbye of the smallest girl as she left. Damn if that boy didn't bare a scary resemblance to Throttle! Tan fur; red eyes and glasses, though no where as near as cool as her beau's, the specks were what did it. Especially the way the boy would tip the specks forward to peer over them, just like Throttle did on occasion. This was the last thing she needed in the internal battle of responsible General verses concerned girlfriend, as it was the urge to rush to Earth was nearly choking her emotionally.

'Time to use the old fail safe. Bury myself in work until bed time and pray tomorrow's easier.' she stared at the floor as she hurried down the corridor that lead to the mess hall. Of course it never was easier, but a mouse could hope, right?

Suddenly, the floor she was so intently staring at, came rushing up to meet her as she slammed into a hurrying figure that barreled around the corner.

"General! Just the lady I was looking for." the beautiful blond teen, dressed in kaki fatigues but somehow looking gorgeous anyhow, smiled brightly as she helped her commanding officer to her feet.

'This girl could make a burlap sack look good. Better warn Modo to keep her off of Vinnie's radar should Harley find… greener pastures.' Carbine mused to herself then addressed her friend. "Primer, what's up?"

"It's my dipstick of a brother." Modo's niece half sighed, half growled "He's run off to join the action and left me holding the bag. I tried to talk him out of it but you know what he can be like at times." she shrugged her slender shoulders in exasperation and Carbine made a mental note to double the girl's rations. She was simply not getting enough nutrition for someone in the middle of puberty. Those growth spurts weren't going to fuel themselves, and the last thing Carbine needed was one of her best soldiers fainting in the middle of a skirmish. The silver furred mousette returned her attention to what the girl was saying.

"Nothing short of shooting him in the leg would've worked and I doubt Grandma would've approved." Primer had a smirk plastered on her lovely face, she was only half joking about considering shooting her twin. It was something all siblings contemplated on occasion, Carbine was sure.

"Oh sweet Mars, don't tell me." the brunette groaned and clutched her head in her hands "Another one runs off to Earth! I swear we should run a group discount on going AWOL. And no cruisers left for me to go round them up in."

"Look at it this way boss lady." Primer offered as she placed an arm around the elder woman "This gives you an excuse to call Commander Throttle, right?"

"Kid, I know teenagers are fueled on hormones and sugar but we need to discuss your priority management. Time enough for that later though. Right now you're right." she laughed tersely "Maybe someday I'll get to deliver good news."

**Back on Earth…**

"What's eating you Vincent?"

Vinnie looked up at his tan furred bro and fringed innocence. "What? I haven't done anything."

Throttle smiled "Exactly. No hollering, no showboating, you've hardly scored a goal all day, and you keep checking that cell-phone Charley-girl gave you for your last birthday." he handed the younger mouse an A&W root-beer and raised an eyebrow at him quizzically.

"Well you know," the self-proclaimed 'Baddest Mamajamma' fidgeted "Maybe I'm coming down with something."

"Case of guilt?" Modo suggested from his place at the grill. It was his turn to cook, though none of them ever used the apron Charlene had bought them unless she was visiting. He had been nudging the white furred stunt driver to apologize to Charlene ever since Vinnie had come home that night, smelling of Canadian Club and fresh air, which meant he had done some soul searching up to Lake Michigan. With two practically perfect gals mad at him; Vinnie had done the sensible thing, for once, and avoided the clubs. That was a load off his bros minds. They had soon discovered that the night clubs that didn't mind them leaving their helmets on were practically a rat's nest of crime. Add alcohol to the equation and someone was bound to get hurt.

"So what kind of flowers did you get her?" Throttle snickered.

"Shut up!"

"He went with chocolate then." Modo laughed.

"Why don't you two tend to your own problems?" Vinnie's scowl melted into a mischievous grin "Like what you're going to do when Carbine finally catches you on the communiqué?"

Throttle's glasses fell askew and Modo covered another chuckle by pretending it was a cough. Their fearless leader was spared coming up with a comeback, by Stoker's timely arrival. Even if they hadn't been told he was coming alone, the bros would have guessed their coach was driving simply because the cruiser landed with the grace of a jungle cat, instead of barreling into the scoreboard like the Incredible Hulk with a hangover.

"I'd have almost forgotten what a decent landing looked like." Vinnie laughed, only to have Modo gently smack the back of his head with his still flesh and blood hand.

"Lay off my nephew little man," he grinned and put Vincent in a playful headlock "Or do I need to remind you? We never let you drive our cruiser back in the day!"

"And with good reason I bet." Stoker jibbed as he strutted up to his three favorite pupils. "How goes it bros? Ready to hunt down some stinkin' Rats?"

"Lunch first Coach?" Throttle suggested, indicating the barbeque full of perfectly grilled hotdogs and a table stocked with every condiment imaginable.

"That's why I left you in charge kid." Stoker smiled as he accepted a plate "Underneath that heedful of tawny fur is a wellspring of good ideas. How about after this we head over to the Last Chance and pick up the girls?" his grin turned slightly predatory "Danger is always more fun with dams involved."

"You'll get no argument from me." Vinnie's features mirrored their mentor's own expression, then they turned serious (which was an event in of itself). "But don't get ay ideas Old Timer," he practically growled, "Harley rides with me."

"What about Ms. Charley?" Modo blinked. He made no moves to hide which lady he was rooting for. Not that he had anything against Harley, it was just… he had a gut feeling about Charlene and Vinnie, and his Mama always said a mouse should follow his instincts.

Throttle, on the other hand, was fighting his hardest to stay out of it altogether. There were some things even a Commander dare not delve into. Just then the communiqué went off, with a sigh he excused himself and went in to get the inevitable over with.

"She'll ride with me of course." Stoker smirked over his bottle of root-beer at his young rival. "I'm sure the poor lady is dying to hang onto a real mouse for a change."

"Charley-girl has her own bike!" Vinnie snapped, unconsciously breaking his plastic knife in half.

"Don't be greedy punk." the brown furred elder glared back. "You can't have both of them. Mind you I'm not picky," he shrugged and made his chair lean back dangerously "at my age you can't afford to be. I'll take whichever one you discard."

"What the hell…?" Vinnie was dumbstruck, it was turning out to be a day of firsts for him.

"Charlene and Harley are both great gals. They've got it all; beauty, brains, and guts. A mouse would have to be crazy to turn down a chance like that." he laughed "What, you thought I'd risk Carbine's fury just to wrangle a pack of grubby Rats? C'mon kid, you three don't need my help for that."

Modo cleared his throat to try and dispel his discomfort, meanwhile Vinnie's mouth just worked up and down for a moment with no sound coming out. Finally he through down his hotdog and stomped off muttering something about giving Sweetheart a once-over before they headed out. He passed Throttle who was returning; looking slightly, but not as, put-upon as they had expected.

"Uh, bros? That was Carbine," he peered over his field specks and rubbed the back of his neck, "Seems we'll be having another guess before long." There was a palpable pause as his words sunk in and found meaning in their memories. Then realization hit them like a Tug buster.

"Oh you got to be joking!" Stoker slapped a hand to his forehead, "Goddamn kid…"

"Ah great." Modo groaned. He loved his nephew like a son, but these crazy stunts had to stop. Rimfire wasn't going to get anywhere in life if all he ever did was break rules. Once in a while was okay, healthy even, but all the time? No, definitely not.

"Beautiful. Can anything else go wrong?"

Throttle was too late to stop the dreaded statement from leaving his younger friend's mouth but he covered Vincent's face with his hands anyhow, just to illustrate his irritation. "Good one Vinnie. Just perfect." he growled.

"So much for taking the gals with us." Stoker muttered.

"What do you mean Coach?"

"Somebody's gotta stay here and wait for the kid to arrive. You know how he lands, what if he needs medical attention?" he shook his head in honest disappointment and exasperation "And we can't put this off any longer. As much as I like to joke around, the fact remains there's six war criminals with rap sheets longer than all our tails laid end to end. You really want to let them roam Chicago any longer than necessary?"

"I hate it when you act responsible." Vinnie smiled weakly.

"Me too punk, me too." Stoker chuckled.

**Author's note**: This chapter really lived up to it's title didn't it? All construction and no big battle or anything, next chapter the action will return, I promise.

As for the part wherein I mention the mind walking Throttle did with Charlene (first episode, original series) I was in no way trying to imply that the guys would put anyone at risk on purpose. It's just that, even as a child (I was eight when the original series came out) it bothered me that Throttle would share memories with a total stranger just because, in his own words, "It's easier to show you than to try and explain it all." I know the creators of the show really did it to simultaneously explain the antennae and to insert a nifty flashback sequence but character wise, I felt it was a slip-up. I mean, Throttle would have, (should have!) explained what he was going to do and asked if it was okay first.

The manga that Harley picked out are hints to a sub plot that may or may not be so subtle. They all have one thing in common and I won't confirm it until a later chapter, wherein it will no longer be a spoiler. Let's just say a character will be going through a process of self discovery and two others will have to decide on whether or not they're okay with it.

As for you, who have guessed at the nature of the afore mentioned sub-plot, I'm sorry but I planed this from the beginning and I intend on seeing it through. I consider this an exercise of a real life situation taking place in a fantasy/sci-fi setting. I want to experiment and push my comfort zone as a writer so please be open minded. As much as I hate alienating people by deviating from safe topics… I gotta be an adult and start taking risks every now and again or I won't grow as a person. Thank you for understanding.


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